Fire of the Phoenix
by Lady Taliana
Summary: A mysterious woman sets out to defend a troubled Tortall, finding adventure, love and hardships along the way. AU story set in the timeline of Lady Knight. Rating may change.
1. Prologue Origins

**Fire Of The Phoenix**

Disclaimer: I own Phoenix, Si-Shan, and some random characters that wander in.

A/N: This is an AU which takes place when Lady Knight does, but instead of Kel this is my version, which has very little in common with LK, except the stopping of the Scanrans…

**Prologue- Origins**

Far to the North, a long way past the Copper Isles and even further from the realm of Tortall, there lies a country that the people of the Outside know very little about. It closed its borders over a thousand years ago, for reasons unknown to the rest of the world, and no trading ships or visitors have been in or out of the country since.

Little is remembered of it from the time before it was separated, though many rumours spread periodically through the peoples of other lands, telling tales of the mysterious people of the hidden land. All that is known for certain is that it is an ancient land, filled with tradition and strange practices; Si-Shan, the country of the Firebird.

But in all the time since they closed their borders against outside influence and interference, interest in the land has faded along with knowledge as none left to tell tales. Not a single person in a thousand years. That is, until now.

One special girl in the whole country has managed to escape. But her disappearance has not gone unnoticed by the powers of that realm…


	2. Chapter One The Girl From SiShan

**Fire of the Phoenix**

Disclaimer- I own Jasmine and Si-Shan. Everything else in this chapter belongs to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter One-The Girl from Si-Shan**

"Myles I hate to ask this of you – you know I do. But we're running out of options. And time."

Myles of Olau winced at the pleading tone in the king's voice, and his desperate expression. Mistaking the movement for disapproval or disagreement, Jonathon of Conte pressed on with his arguments, "If there were any other way I would use it, but we've exhausted most other plans and of the few we have left this is the only one I can see working, _if _you can come up with a way, _if_ we have enough time to set such a plan into action. We need you," he looked down, hating the pressure he was putting on his friend but seeing no other choice. "We need whatever, whoever, you can offer."

"Jon…I don't know that there's anything that I or my agents can do. You and I both know that the war hinges on these killing machines, but we don't know where Stenmun or Blayce are weaselled away, we don't know how to find them, and we don't have any way of getting so close to the enemy that we could find out!"

Jonathon toyed absently with his almost-forgotten mug, sipping the cold tea without registering the taste. "I thought you had agents in Scanra already?"

"I do," the stout knight acknowledged, "but firstly they are too valuable to risk – an agent can take _years_ to place in Scanra, given the clan-nature. Secondly the few agents I have managed to place wouldn't do – they're with the families or low-ranking members of the clan. You'd want somebody in Rathausak's "Royal Court", as well as someone who knows their…way around…politics…" his voice trailed off and he stared into space, a thought working through his mind. The King knew better than to disturb him and sat back to wait out the silence.

Time passed and Myles continued to sit in silence, looking as though he were struggling with some idea. Slowly he asked, "We know where Maggur is, don't we?"

"We have a good idea. Not the capital, as you know, but some of our allies in the Copper Isles sent word that they know where Rathusak is hiding himself – he approached them with a treaty, promising them friendship and safety in return for food. Scanra," he added, with a satisfied smile, "is feeling the pinch of winter. He's spent so much time and effort on the killing machines, and keeping his nobles happy that they forgot the essential things. But we can't get at him."

"Then…" Myles looked up, conflict in his eyes, "I might have someone who can help. Follow me." Myles stood and led the way through the corridors of the palace, Jon following closely, asking the question which rose first in his mind.

"I thought you didn't tend to have direct contact with your agents, only through George?"

"Usually I do. This agent is…different in many ways. But the best for the job at hand. Here we are." They stopped outside a door in the guest wing, the marker by the door simply reading 'B'. Myles knocked then waited. Footsteps on the other side warned them of someone's approach, then the door was pulled open, surprising Jon with what it revealed.

He had been expecting a young man, probably with a Scanran look about him, able to pass himself off as a native and able to fight his way out of trouble if necessary. He was faced with was a young woman with an exotic look to her, and strangely-cut clothes. She was barefoot, lightly-tanned, and bore a necklace with an unusual symbol, but her red-gold hair was the oddest thing about her. It was a shade he had never seen, and ensured she would stand out in any crowd – hardly the ideal situation for an undercover agent.

She appraised him as frankly as he stared at her, then smiled at Myles, speaking with the barest trace of an unfamiliar accent, "Myles, hello! How are you? Does this mean you have a use for me – something which is going to rescue me from enforced boredom?"

Myles returned her smile, eyes twinkling at her enthusiastic reaction but, before he could speak, Jon asked, "I'm sorry, I don't understand – who are you?"

The girl stared between Jon and Myles, raising an inquiring brow at Myles, who stepped in with; "Jasmine, this is the King Jonathon, with whom my allegiance lies. Jon, this is Jasmine – one of my best agents, for all that she's new to the game."

Jasmine curtsied to Jon, and blushed slightly at the knight's compliment, muttering, "I have some advantages which make it easier."

"What 'advantages'? Surely your hair alone makes you more conspicuous?" Jonathon queried, side tracked from their original intentions of coming here. He was surprised to see Jasmine look confused at his comments, and gesture them inside as she checked her reflection in a small mirror on her nightstand. She let loose a sigh of frustration.

"I wish this would stop happening at random – it wouldn't hurt me to be a little less noticeable. I mean, this isn't even a common colour in my country, never mind here in Tortall!"

"Wh-what?" Jon stuttered, "You didn't know your own hair colour? How exactly does that happen?"

Jasmine glanced at Myles, then back to Jon, awkwardly. Myles nodded for her to continue. She closed her eyes and concentrated and, after a moment, her hair changed to a dirty blonde. Opening her eyes she grinned at Jon's open-mouthed surprise as her hair suddenly reverted to its original red-gold. Jasmine glanced in the mirror and frowned.

"The slight drawback to my rather nifty ability is that, on occasion, my hair takes on a mind of its own and decides its own colour. But, if I keep concentrating I can prevent that. So disguises are that much easier for me." Jon didn't look much enlightened, and Myles and Jasmine exchanged glances.

"What exactly are you two not telling me?" Jon demanded, tired of the secrecy and meaning-laden looks. Myles sighed, and gestured Jasmine to speak.

"You might as well know, I suppose, especially if I'm going to be working for you." She winked at Myles conspiratorially and continued, "Do you recall the land across the sea's beyond Yaman? You sent envoys in the first years of your reign?"

"Si-Shan?" He nodded, "We were going to treat with them, see if we could arrange trades and the like, but we were not permitted to enter the country's border, and only one person came out, telling us to leave and never return. We didn't want to risk an incident, so we left it alone. I've always intended to send further envoys but," he looked sheepish, "we never had chance. One villager also spoke to us, before he got scared. He told us some tales about a fire bird, and the ruling family."

Jasmine looked thoughtful "What did he tell you about them?"

Jon dredged his memory for details. "He said… the Firebird was a Phoenix who protected the kingdom. He told us that the ruling family were the 'Lujayn' family – know as the Lotus emperors. He said they had been rulers for a long time."

Looking surprised, Jasmine said, "He was right. The Lujayn family have been the rulers for many thousands of years; almost since... well I'm a little ahead of myself. Before Si-Shan was a united country, it was a collection of small regions held by the brute force of the head of the clan ruling the area. Little more than barbarians." There was disdain in her tone and on her face until Myles cleared his throat and she seemed to shake herself and blush.

Myles pulled out a chair and gestured at Jon, "Sit. It's a very long explanation."

"Eventually one clan fought their way up to lead several other clans, and on until they had united most of the warring factions into one country. The final clans still fighting were to be destroyed until the Phoenix appeared one day. No one knows where he came from, or why he favoured Si-Shan, but he settled in our country, binding himself to the land." Jasmine paused, deep in thought, and then continued, "The clan that had originally begun the uniting of Si-Shan, the Lujayn's, took control over the country, naming themselves 'Emperors'. Because of this they have a very special tie to the Phoenix, who made some agreement with those long-ago rulers." She exchanged an uncertain glance with Myles.

"What does this have-" Jon tried to interrupt, despite his fascination. Myles hushed him.

"Let her finish. You will understand, Jon."

Jasmine sighed, and looked at her hands, shifting uneasily on her seat. "The members of the Lujayn family remain the rulers to this day, and retain their special ties to the Phoenix. Occasionally one is born into another family with such ties, and they are adopted as members of the ruling clan. Even more rarely, Lujayn's are born without any tie, but I do not know what happens to them," her troubled expression revealed her suspicions, but she shook them off.

"The ruling class have different abilities, depending on how close this 'tie' is. Their closeness then determines their rank within the family, and the person of highest rank becomes the next Emperor, Empress or heir to the throne. The lowest rank, the Tor Ka, can withstand simple fires, house fires, for hours at a time, and can, with concentration, raise small fires, close by. The third rank, the Tor Iel, can withstand any fire for any length of time, and can raise fires anywhere they wish. The second rank, the Shah, can do all of this, and can interpret vague moods of the Phoenix- for example they feel it is happy, but do not know what about. All ranks can change their hair colour at will, and have other abilities which it is forbidden to speak of."

She took a deep breath, stood and paced silently up and down for a few minutes. When she spoke again her accent had thickened noticeably and her expression was distant.

"That is usually the highest rank anyone is born to. But…very rarely… one of the first rank is born. The Shira. These can raise and control fire, walk through for as long as necessary, sense the mood of the Phoenix, and the reason for its mood. When it is feeling something particularly strongly their hair changes colour of its own accord, to match it. And no matter the distance, they can speak directly to the Phoenix – mind to mind." She sighed and stared out of the window, her back to Jon and Myles, then confirmed Jon's blooming suspicions.

"I am Shira. The first to be born to the Lujayns for more than three thousand years." She turned to face them and said

"I am Jasmine Lujayn. Future Empress of Si-Shan."


	3. Chapter Two Truth of the Tale

Fire Of The Phoenix

Disclaimer: I own Phoenix/Jasmine, Si-shan, The plot, and that's it. This is an AU story, set in the timeline of Lady Knight.

Chapter Two- Truth of the Tale

"_I am Jasmine Lujayn. Future Empress of Si-Shan."_

Jonathon gaped at the girl, then turned to Myles, still in shock, "Wh- what…?"

Taking pity on Jon's open-mouthed shock and Jasmine's pleading glance, Myles explained, "Jasmine left her country in secret. In Si-shan she cannot officially abdicate or renounce her claim to the throne, it's not the way things are done there, and she would have been tried as a traitor. So she escaped, and after listening to stories about you, Thayet, Alanna and tales about the freedoms our people enjoy, she came to Tortall, and was picked up by one of my agents." He shared a fond smile with Jasmine and continued, "She made her way to my house in Corus and started reciting everything of interest she had learned on the journey over here – of course my agents brought her directly to me! When I became your spymaster, Jon, we agreed that sometimes I would have to take the initiative, and that I couldn't always tell you everything. This-"

"That doesn't include not telling me about visiting royalty!" the King growled.

"I'm not," Jasmine interjected. "I'm a private citizen, whose background is irrelevant to anyone but myself."

"She swore to us, Jon" Myles added. As Jon studied Jasmine frankly, he explained, "_I _took the oath, in your name, and in my capacity as spymaster. She is now a citizen of Tortall, sworn to serve the best interests of her people. The standard oath… with one addition."

"I won't pass on any information that might harm Si-shan, which was gained while I was in such a privileged position. History, culture, language – I'll teach anyone on any of these, but my knowledge of the defences? Not that. Though," she frowned slightly "anything I learn from now on, now that I work for Myles, that I can pass on in good conscience."

There was a long moment of silence as Jon digested all of the information and Jasmine examined her stubbornly red-gold hair with a morose expression.

"All right. I will think on what you've both said. And, for now, everything can stay as it is. But I don't understand what this has to do with Scanra, Maggur, or Blayce?"

Dawning comprehension covered Jasmine's face and she beamed at Myles as she explained "I might not be royal now, but twenty years of etiquette lessons, and being prepared to rule a country stays with you. Despite our rather closed-off state, I do understand the dances leaders take to form alliances, am good at disguises, can fight or talk my way out of a tight corner and – most important for your purposes – am very obviously not from Tortall. A country no one knows anything about."

Understanding crossed Jon's face, quickly followed by a frown "You know what you would be getting into, though? Maggur has… an unpleasant way with spies when caught. And you will be more vulnerable than ever, because the stakes are higher than ever. The last spy he caught…" Jon trailed off, remembering the horrific results of failure. From the expression on Jasmine's face she already knew, then her expression relaxed and she murmured

"One of my earliest memories is watching a battalion throw themselves onto a fire to prove loyalty unto death. Immediately after I took my first oath to the Phoenix" she turned her hands palm-up, showing deep scars which looked like the result of repeated burns. "I believe I was five," she finished. A bitter smile twisted her features at Jon's pale face and horrified expression. "I have no fear of Scanra."

More silence followed until Myles cleared his throat and said, falsely bright, "Would you like to see some of Jasmine's recommendations for the post?

You've already seen one with the hair."

Jon shook himself and agreed, following them along the corridor deep in thought. They made their way to one of the indoor practice courts and, finding it free, headed inside. As Jasmine began to limber up, Myles explained

"It's not quite as impressive as watching her practise against other fighters, but it's still… interesting to watch. And before you complain that no one told you about her fighting style – and you will, believe me – so far she's only fought against agents of mine, and you know they keep a secret. We thought it best she remain… a hidden gem."

"Myles – swords or self?" Jasmine enquired, then shook her head, "Actually, better without swords. Then he can see I really _can _look after myself."

She moved to the centre of the training court, and stilled herself. After a moment or two, she began to move – slowly at first, with a dancers grace. Stepping to the left, she moved her arms in what was obviously a block, then moved into a series of blocks, kicks and punches which increased in speed until she was almost a blur. The pattern was obviously something that had been oft-practised, but was no less impressive for it.

As the pattern came to an end, she finished in the position she had started in, and bowed. As she moved towards Jonathon and Myles they could see that she wasn't even sweating, but breathing a little heavily. Noting the expression on Jonathon's face, Jasmine said, wryly, "I guess you might trust me to look after myself now, eh?"

"All right…" said Jonathon, slowly, "You can fight, I'll give you that. And you may just be our best hope – never mind our only hope…"

"There's a 'but' in your tone. There's always a 'but'." Jasmine stated. She eyed the King, then turned to Myles. "Will the kitchens be empty at this time?"

"Ah- yes" Myles seemed surprised at the seeming change of topic, then something appeared to click. "Oh – no. Jasmine, I don't think…."

"He still needs convincing, and to anyone not from Si-Shan, that seems quite convincing, doesn't it? Your majesty, if you'd come with me to the kitchens, I think I can alleviate some of your worries."

***

In the kitchens Myles and Jasmine checked carefully to be certain they were alone, as a bemused Jonathon looked on. Myles started loading wood onto one of the still-burning kitchen fires, until he judged it hot enough. As he did, Jasmine removed her shoes, stockings and the light tunic she had on, leaving only her shirt and leggings. Catching Jon's inquiring glance she explained,

"Including clothing requires concentration, so if I don't have to concentrate on too much I'm better."

"Better at what?" he asked.

She grinned mysteriously, then walked to the fire. "Watch and find out"

Then she stepped into the fire, without a backward glance.


	4. Chapter Three A Job for a Spy

Fire Of The Phoenix

Disclaimer: I own Phoenix/Jasmine, Si-shan, the plot, and the OCs. This is an AU story set in the Lady Knight timeline.

A/N: A lot of talking in here, I know, but I feel it's necessary.

Chapter Three- A Job For A Spy

_Then she stepped into the fire without a backward glance._

Despite all he'd been told, Jonathon swore as she stepped into a fire so hot that even the other side of the room was too hot. He lunged forward, knowing that he would never reach her in time. Then stopped.

Nothing was happening. Jasmine stood inside the white-hot core of the fire, a grin on her face, not even sweating. Jonathon stared in amazement. It was one thing to be told about the gifts given to the royals, and quite another to see them in action.

"How hot…?" He managed to gasp out.

Jasmine left the fire as she replied, "If the Royal forest was to burn, I might be uncomfortable." She replaced her clothes as Jonathon stood, deep in thought. The three of them returned to Myles' study to ensure their privacy, and settled themselves into the comfortable armchairs which were scattered near the empty fireplace.

"I know you can handle yourself, I couldn't doubt that, after all I've seen. And I trust Myles when he says you're loyal – he's a good judge of character. But I would like to ask…why? Not," he hastened to add, seeing the frown on her face, "why you left. That's your business, though I hope someday to find out. But why Tortall? Why swear to us? You could make yourself a rich – and well protected – woman swearing to any of the eastern powers."

Jasmine was silent for a long time. Just as Jon had given up hope of an answer, she began to talk, quietly,

"Even though my people cut themselves off many years ago, smugglers still crossed – from both sides of the barrier. Stories filtered through about the lands outside our own. Wonderful tales. In my country… women are property, little more. Only Lujyan women are treated any differently, but even we are second class. I was given respect because of my rank, but I had no real freedom." She frowned, searching for the right words. "The tale I told you, of the battalion and my first oath… they are small, small things indeed. There is a saying in Si-Shan; Si-Shan ni vantala, nesoni baraio. It means…well… I cannot directly translate but the closest I could come is; Si-Shan is beautiful but she is cruel. When I escaped and came to seek my fortune, I heard the tales of Tortall; Alanna the Lioness, Daine the Wildmage, yourself and your lady wife. Tales of freedom for all and of something so different to the life I was used to."

She shifted in the seat, and fell silent a moment. "I came here and it was better than even the tales. Tortall is a land of freedom, of choices, of joy. You ask why Tortall? Because it represents everything I could hope for, and I would do anything to protect that."

There was silence as Jonathon digested this. Though he would never admit it, he was very touched by the sentiments of this strange girl. He looked up once more, and Myles and Jasmine knew already what his decision was.

"We know the Killing Machines are made by a single mage; Blayce, of Galla, but we have no idea where he is, or how to find him." Jon stood and began to pace. "We need to find Blayce, stop these machines. Without them we have a chance to win this war. That means we need someone to find him; the best chance of that is to get someone close to Maggur. Someone to get into his confidences or – at the least – his private papers. This is a job for a spy."

"How can we be sure Blayce hasn't passed his little secrets onto other mages?" Jasmine asked.

"One horrible blessing after another," Myles said. "From what we've found of this Blayce, he's not the type to make himself dispensable by letting anyone know how to do it. And all the Killing Machines we've examined have borne the marks of the same mage." He sighed, "King Maggot is… unfortunately not stupid. And he does not trust strangers who claim to be defectors from the enemy."

Jasmine smiled a bitter, half smile. "I never thought I'd have to play that part again…" she trailed off.

"There may be another way-" Myles began, but Jasmine cut him off.

"No. This way is faster. It makes the most sense, you and I both know that." Seeing Jon's raised brow, she explained, "I can go as a representative of Si-Shan, a high-ranking princess. We heard of the war and decided to offer our aid to Scanra. He'll have no reason to doubt me, and I'll find chances to scout through his papers – if he won't reveal Blayce's location anyway, that is."

"That way," Myles interjected, "If they use a truth-spell on her, she'll be telling the truth, at least for some of it, which should be good enough."

"And the chances are that my people would support Maggur, if they cared a whit about these lands." Jasmine added.

Jonathon nodded his understanding. "I trust the two of you can make sufficient arrangement yourselves?" It was Myles' turn to nod. "Very well. You may have access to whatever troops, or equipment you need. If anyone questions you, tell them it's on my orders, and a matter of state secrecy." He stood, and looked at Jasmine. "Gods all bless, Lady Jasmine. You carry the fate of us all on your shoulders. I pray you succeed."

Before Myles and Jasmine could rise from their seats, he left. Settling in the pair began to sketch out a workable plan.

Staring out the window at the midday sun, Jasmine sighed and asked, "What do we have so far?"

Myles looked up from the papers he was scribbling on. "Well, you need clothes, fitting to a member of your Royal house. You'll have to have some input into the designs; they can't look Tortallen, and none of our seamstresses will know what the clothes of Si-Shan look like."

"I can do that. I have some of my travelling clothes, though they're not in the best state, and I have no trouble remembering the awful dresses they used to make me wear." She shuddered.

"You'll also need… guards. Trained in the ways of your people, your language – and that will _definitely _need to be done by you."

Jasmine scowled and jumped out of the seat, to pace the room. "Why do I need guards? I'll move faster – and leave faster – if I'm alone."

"You will, I agree, but it would look more than a little suspicious if you, an ambassador for your people, had no guards at all, wouldn't it? I know you will need to teach them, but the basics, with fast learners? You'll be fine. And you can teach them on the road, as well, until you reach Scanra."

"Fine," she grudgingly agreed. "But I want to meet them before you decide. If they're not right, they're not coming."

"Agreed. But," Myles added quickly, "you do have to take some, Jasmine. Now – I'll search some out for tomorrow, you need to go and visit with the seamstresses. Outfits for yourself and….for now, lets say twelve guards?"

"Wha-!"

"That doesn't mean there will be so many, but better safe than sorry, eh?"

"I suppose you're right. I'll meet you here in the morning?"

"Yes, see you tomorrow, Jasmine."

Myles watched as she slipped out of the room. Staring at the closed door, he pondered on the nature of the task; it was a heavy weight for anyone to near, but especially for one who had already been through so much. After a moment he shook himself and went back to his papers – there was nothing to be done.

The next morning, Jasmine slipped into Myles' study, to find herself faced with six men standing in groups or singly. All eyes turned to her, and then Myles came forward,

"Ah, Jasmine, there you are. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she replied absently, while looking the men over as curiously as they were staring at her. Myles nodded, and addressed the waiting men.

"Gentlemen, all of you have worked with me before, and you know what kind of work we do. This time, however, it is a mission of both great importance – and great danger. No one will be forced along, and anyone who wishes to, may leave now." No one moved. Jasmine nodded approvingly, and Myles continued. "This mission will take you behind enemy lines. _Far _behind enemy lines. And there is much at stake. It will be hard work, with limited time to learn everything that's needed, but I have every faith in you. This," he gestured Jasmine forward, "is Jasmine. She's in charge of this mission, and she'll tell you everything you need to know."

Jasmine examined each of the men in turn. Most seemed interested but unconcerned, though one or two appeared a little disgruntled after Myles' announcement. She composed herself, and began

"We're going after Blayce the Gallan." There was some muttering. "From your expressions, you know well enough who he is. We're going to find him, and we're going to stop him. But to do that we'll need to get close to good King Maggot. And that's where I come in." She took a deep breath and asked, "How many of you have heard of Si-Shan?" There were some surprised sounds, but hands were raised, more than half.

"Most of you, that's good. For those of you that don't know, Si-Shan is a land across the seas, far to the north, which closed itself off from the rest of the world…a long time ago. That's where I hail from." One of the men raised a hand,. "Yes…?"

"Lukas, Lady. S'cuse me for asking, but what's that t'do wi' anythin'?"

"The plan is to travel to Scanra, and King Maggot, and tell him that we – meaning Si-Shan, of course – were considering reopening our lands to the right people, as we are in need of trade. We sent out some 'feelers' and heard of this war and, on closer consideration, decided to offer our aid to Scanra as a good-faith gesture, in return for certain trading rights when they win. However we will also need certain assurances of good faith before we will enter into the alliance." The men nodded their understanding, and she continued, "However as an ambassador…it has been brought to my attention that I will need an honour guard and…" she looked sideways at Myles before continuing reluctantly, "if I can act the part of the high bred but meek lady, with little but rank to recommend me, so much the better to evade suspicions. That's where _you_ come in. I can teach you enough that to anyone who doesn't know us, you'll be natives – no one's seen us in nigh on a thousand years. We do the job, get the information, and get out. But it'll only work if you're willing…?"

There was a murmur of assent, and the men, at Myles signal, formed into a line.

"Some of you have worked together before, some of you haven't. Just give your name and whatever you did before spy work – or whatever you do as well as it." Myles smiled.

"Alaric… former thief." Grinned the first man, a tall blond with broad shoulders. A silver ring around his bicep flashed as he moved, and there was a rogues twinkle in his eyes. Eying him, Jasmine could see how he would be successful with his chosen profession; he exuded a dancers grace and, despite his muscular frame, retained a slim enough build to fit into fairly tight spaces.

"I'm Silas, merchant of all goods, and this is my twin…"

"…Sol, the better looking one." The two identical men smirked at each other. Both men were tall, with brown hair and blue eyes, and a charming smile, which they turned on Jasmine. "Go on, miss, I'm far more handsome than ferret face, aren't I?" Sol teased as his twin smiled good-naturedly.

"No comment," she replied, but smiled – she could enjoy working with them. Something she was not so sure of with the next man.

"Ivor. I am a mage, still." He was a shifty looking man with squinting eyes of indistinguishable colour. His lank, greasy hair looked to be brown, and his hands were covered with the scars of old battles.

"Names Lukas, I used to be a Sergeant with the Kings Armies," he said as he stepped forward to shake her hand in a firm grip. Slim, bearded and relatively small compared to the others, there was nevertheless something steely in his eyes and his bearing. Somehow, Jasmine trusted at once that, once set on their course, he would stay with it till the bitter end.

The final man stepped forward, and Jasmine craned her neck to look him in the eye. "Garth. I was an armourer, and I still keep my hand in," he said. As well as his impressive height he bore the broad shoulders and barrel chest of all armourers, and a few pale burn scars flecked his face, but didn't mar his air of easy amiability.

"Well, as Myles said, I'll be in charge, but I won't work with anyone who can't respect that. So, final question for you all – can you work with me? Follow my orders without complaint, and do as I say, even if you can't see straight away why I ask?"

They looked at each other for a moment, then Alaric stepped forward, seemingly the spokesman for them all

"We will follow you, Lady Jasmine."


	5. Chapter Four A Ladies Maid

Fire Of The Phoenix

Disclaimer: I own Jasmine, Si-shan, and the OCs. This is an AU story, set in the Lady Knight timeline.

Chapter Four- A Ladies Maid

'We will follow you, Lady Jasmine'

Two weeks passed and many of the preparations were going well – the men Myles had chosen were fast learners, and Jasmine was a good teacher. Their manners, accents and fighting were catching up fast, and though their language skills lagged behind, Jasmine could tell that they would be good enough to fool people who had never heard the language before.

The arming, provisioning and clothing, however, was not going so well.

"My Lady! Will you please stop squirming? I cannot shape this to your requirements if you will not _hold still!_" The seamstress, a sour faced woman, scowled at her, then directed a glare at the door where Alaric stood, waiting to speak with Jasmine. "And t'aint right that he should be standing there, bold as brass, while you're being fitted… 'tisn't decent!"

Jasmine stared at her in disbelief "I'm in breeches and a shirt, with a dress going over the top – I'm more dressed than I would be wandering the halls!" She shifted, scratching an itch, until the woman, glaring, smacked her arm.

"Stop fidgeting, then! And what are you grinning about?" She rounded on the smirking Alaric. His smirk grew broader, into a full smile, and he commented airily

"Well, she's s'posed to be a highborn lady, yes? But the rate she's fidgeting anyone with half an eye can see she's not used to fancy clothes, and she's as common as any of us!"

Jasmine smiled ruefully to herself. She still hadn't told them who she really was – as far as they were concerned she was a ladies maid from Si-Shan, and she intended to keep it that way. Nobility caused nothing but trouble, that she could see. Clearing her head of such thoughts she mock-glared at Alaric

"I'd like to see how _you'd _be in a dress fitting! I'll be fine once I'm in it. Are we done here?" The last was directed to the seamstress who nodded with a disapproving sniff, and helped her remove the dress without dislodging any pins.

Jasmine thanked the seamstress, then left, gesturing Alaric to follow her. They walked side-by-side, chatting about their work until they reached a heavy oak door. The room had been claimed by them as a good place for practice – large enough for weapons practice, but comfortable enough to teach languages and other necessary information, it was the perfect base for their work.

They began practicing the mannerisms and bows of a noble guard of Si-Shan, with Jasmine moving among them, correcting a pose here and there, or making a few suggestions she thought might help. After that they moved onto weapons practice, following the same patterns of practice.

They were, Jasmine admitted to herself, very fast learners. She paced the floor with nervous energy as she watched their exchanges, and frowned. Noticing this Silas, who had stopped to allow his brother a moment, asked

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, really. I just… you've all learnt so fast, yet your fighting style is… so different to the way I was taught…I can't help but wonder if it will be noticed."

"Well…" Silas began slowly, "Hopefully it won't come to a fight, and I suppose if it did it would be too late to worry if they notice the difference; if they're fighting us, we probably won't win them over…"

The others, noticing their exchange, had gathered around. Lukas, whom Jasmine had come to respect for his level thinking, added thoughtfully

"He's right, but so are you. It might be better if you could show us a few moves – nothing too complex, we won't have time to learn, but something we could use to practice or somesuch? If we were there any length of time, well, as guards we'd want to stay in shape, yes? So we'd need to know say a simple routine – a travellers practice run."

Jasmine sighed. "You're right. I suppose I'd better teach you a pattern dance, something for practices." Alaric snickered, and Jasmine raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to share the joke.

"You look about as happy about this as you did at a dress fitting. Are we such a trial?"

She pulled a face "It's not that – I just don't know how good I'll be as a teacher; I wasn't supposed to learn in the first place, so passing it on will feel… very strange."

"Well you do a good job of teaching us other things – start like that." Lukas said, "You show us, and we'll try it out. That's how we do with new recruits; it's the same sort of thing."

"Yes… not now, though," she said, as her stomach growled audibly. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow you fight like me."

The evening bell rang out, marking the sixth hour, and they filed out of the room to find some food. Jasmine trailed behind, thinking hard, until Garth dropped back, to ask her about Shanian metalworking. She carried on a lively conversation with them all over dinner, before escaping once more. Heading to her rooms, she fell back into thoughts, before shaking herself from the glooms – tomorrow would come soon enough.


End file.
